by T Gephart
“Hush, Dalton. Some women want more romance than to be taken out to the local Denny’s for a midnight dinner after being picked up at a bar.” His wife stared him down, silencing him with a look.
I ignored my brothers, and hoping I wasn’t freaking Dave out as I went on to elaborate about how we started as friends at first and then moved to dating. We’d decided to keep it low-key so people around the office didn’t find out, but now we were both deliriously happy and looking forward to the future.
Blah, blah, blah—happily ever after—the end.
Gran tapped my hand gently and smiled. “Well, I am really glad I got to hear that again. And I’m glad you’re happy. Maybe the two of you can come sit with me on Sunday before you fly home and I can hear more.”
“Sure, no problem,” I agreed, glad the inquisition had stopped for the night. “We’d love it.”
Sunday was a lifetime away so making plans to sit at her round kitchen table sipping on iced tea and telling more stories was an easy promise to make. Hopefully by then she would have forgotten—like she had the first time—and we could go back to talking about the Catholics instead.
I casually yawned, making a show of checking the time and saying we should get back to our hotel. Dad was going to take Gran back home and Melanie and Sam wanted to get Anna to bed so it seemed like we should make a move too. Besides, it had been our first big outing, and like any team, we needed to go back and look at the game tapes, debrief and formulate the strategy for the rest of the weekend. Oh, and I was going to have to find a way to go to sleep with Dave lying right beside me. Because that was going to be easy.
We said our goodbyes, thanking my mom for the amazing dinner, and followed Dad, Gran, Melanie, Sam and Anna out the front door.
“Nice ride.” Travis tipped his head to our shiny red rental, following us out to the convertible. “You can tell a lot about a man by the car he drives.”
Dave’s eyebrow rose in a silent I-told-you-so as he opened the passenger door for me, not bothering to ask if I wanted to drive. “Thanks, she handles like a dream too.”
He didn’t gloat for too long, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the ignition, peeling out of the driveway before Dad had even gotten Gran into the car.
“That went well.” He laughed, finding his own way back onto the road.
I pointed to the sign up ahead. “Get on 49, and that was a mess.”
“It wasn’t that bad, you’re too critical. Think of it as the dress rehearsal, a chance for us to get all the kinks out before opening night.” He tapped on the steering wheel in time to the radio, completely calm.
I guess it was easy to be calm when it wasn’t your ass on the line; they weren’t going to want his head on a spike if they found out it was all just some elaborate sham.
“You’re right, it can only get easier from here on out.” I didn’t bother arguing, looking out the windshield at the passing lights.
Shreveport had always seemed so small town, my ambitions bigger than what the city could give me. But I loved it, and it would always hold a place in my heart. There was a certain comfort to being back. Like sliding on an old pair of jeans or a worn in pair of shoes, everything moved slower and a day just seemed to last longer.
“What are you thinking about?” Dave asked, breaking the silence.
I sighed, stretching my arms in front of me as we pulled into the hotel. “Just about the city. It feels different this time around.”
“Good different or bad different?” He stopped, putting the car into park.
“I’ll let you know when I’ve decided.”
Oh, I had decided, and nothing about being with him could ever be bad.
Nothing.
IT HAD BEEN AN HOUR and a half and I was still holed up in the bathroom.
I’d showered, shaved my legs, moisturized, brushed my teeth, blow dried my hair and reorganized the hotel-provided toiletries. It was utterly ridiculous that I was hiding out like a fugitive.
It was usually a month or more before I slept with a man, and even longer before I stayed the night—if ever—but my concern wasn’t about him seeing me when I woke up.
No, my anxiety was all my own, my nerves jangling as I looked in the mirror and gave myself a pep talk so I could go out there and face him.
It would have been a hell of a lot easier if I had taken a shower the minute we’d gotten to the room, gone through my routine and gotten my ass into bed. But instead, I offered the first shower to Dave.
I was attempting to be considerate, accommodating even—hoping my good and considerate behavior would help work off some of the sin-debt I had accumulated by lying my ass off.
He accepted happily, disappearing into the bathroom only to emerge twenty short minutes later clean, damp, and with a towel slung low around his waist.
No good deed goes unpunished.
Words got stuck in my throat as he waltzed out of the steam-filled room, rivulets of waters clinging to his chest as they snaked their way down his torso. I was hypnotized by their descent, following each dip and curl of their journey across his extraordinary muscles.
It was obscene, watching the strong cords across his shoulders flex as he twisted, using a small towel to dry off his hair. I was positive he could feel me staring, but as much as I wanted to—okay, that was a lie, I didn’t want to—I couldn’t look away. My eyes stayed glued to his body, following his every move like I was documenting it for prosperity.
“You good?”
He’d moved closer, bringing his mostly naked, clean smelling man body inches away from mine, the urge to reach out and touch him proving almost too much.
It took every ounce of willpower to stop myself, muttering like a crazy person that I needed a shower before locking myself in the bathroom.
Which was where I still was.
Hopefully during that time he’d put on some clothes, saving me from the hormone explosion I’d barely escaped when I ran into the bathroom like a loser. Although, given what I’d seen before I walked away, I was sure a full body Hazmat suit still wouldn’t be enough.
Shit.
I looked at the door handle like it was covered with spiders, repelling from it. My reflection fell back to the mirror, glancing at myself wearing what I had packed to sleep in, the cotton boxer shorts and plain cotton tank—not a good choice. I’d never given much thought to my sleep attire before, my nipples poking against the thin fabric. Of course it was too late now to travel back in time and pack something less suggestive, like, I don’t know, a freaking nun’s habit.
“Open the goddamn door you coward.” I willed my hand to move, whispering to myself like an idiot. “You’re acting like a moron.”
With a decisive jerk and a deep breath, I pulled open the door and emerged into the bedroom, the air conditioning hitting my skin and instantly making my nipples pebble.
And if it wasn’t bad enough, the thermostat had declared war on my body while Dave’s had decided to mount its own assault, the glow of the television screen lighting his pecs in what could only be described as spectacular.
Without words I slipped between the sheets, feeling the temperature across my skin rise by a hundred degrees as I plumped up my pillow like I wasn’t aroused.
Obviously he hadn’t found that shirt, the allergy Gran had spoken of earlier still afflicting him. I had to wonder if his lack of clothing extended to the bottom half and I was tempted to look. He wouldn’t sleep naked, would he? I wasn’t even decent enough to be ashamed that I hoped he would, and was.
“Plans for tomorrow?” My eyes stared dead ahead as I kept my voice low, watching the animal documentary with intensity even though I had no idea what the hell was going on.
“Travis needs to work, but Dalton wants to take me out to one of the casinos for lunch.” I felt him shift beside me. “I need to run lines in the morning but everyone needs to eat.”
My head nodded, careful not to expand my field of vision. “Sure. Everyone needs to eat.”<
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My voice sounded foreign, devoid of tone as I focused on the elephants on the screen. I couldn’t allow myself to think too much about him, concerned my body would betray me.
He stopped shuffling, and I felt the weight of his stare. “Is there something else you would rather me be doing tomorrow?”
How about me?
No, you cannot say that.
“No, of course not.” I tried to laugh, but didn’t sound convincing. “You should go. Have a good time.”
My recovery wasn’t great, but at least I no longer sounded deranged.
“If you’re worried about me flying solo, you don’t need to be. I’m rock solid.”
Really? Mind if I reach down there and check for myself?
Goddamn it, Jessica.
It was adorable that he thought the reason I hadn’t made eye contact was because I was worried about his ability to complete the mission. I had to wonder if he knew what kind of firepower he wielded with that body of his, or if he knew how his little half-naked display had worked me up into a state.
“I’m not worried. Just don’t offer any additional information and we’ll be fine.”
He wasn’t the only one who needed to be concerned with adding additional information. I took my own advice, saying as little as possible as I continued my passionate viewing of The Discovery Channel.
“If it makes you feel better.” He threw off the blankets and jumped out of bed. “I’ll go over the notes one last time so they’re fresh for tomorrow.”
My narrow field of vision didn’t do shit as he walked from his side of the bed to his suitcase by the closet and pulled out an iPad.
His ass was encased in a pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs that looked like they’d been sprayed on. I didn’t even need to use my imagination, the reality far better than anything I could have dreamed up. The bulge in the front was substantial, straining against the cotton in the protest of being contained. I didn’t blame it, his penis having my full support of being freed as well.
I hadn’t meant to look, but it wasn’t like something I could avoid either. The height of his man parts had been exactly level with my line of sight. It was a conspiracy of the highest order.
I’d tried to avert my eyes, begging my head not to turn or for my retinas to look elsewhere, but it was too late. My optical nerve won the war with my brain, tracking him like prey as he strode casually back to the bed and slid in.
The relief that he’d covered himself was short-lived, his leg brushing mine as he shuffled on the mattress. If he was looking for a comfortable spot to lie, I could help him with that, namely the space between my legs.
OH. MY. GOD.
Please do not let me suggest that.
I shut my eyes, pretending I was home alone. Or at the Vatican staring at Michelangelo’s fresco with all those judgy Catholic fat angels glaring down. My skin burned, prickling, and I just knew he was watching me.
“What is it?” I asked, keeping my eyes shut and my mind on the Virgin Mary.
“You like to sleep naked,” he said casually, like he’d announced I didn’t like polyester.
“Yeah, so?”
“You’re not naked now.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
My eyes squinted tighter hoping the darkness might cleanse my dirty thoughts. Lord knows the fat judgy angels hadn’t done shit. “I’m also not in bed alone and I was trying to be considerate. You’re welcome.”
He coughed, a low rumble traveling up his throat. “Don’t go to any trouble on my behalf.”
I was hearing things, or misinterpreted it, because surely he wasn’t inviting me to . . .
“I could say the same for you, you know? I remember reading something similar on your notes.” I went on the offensive.
“You’re right. You did.”
At some point I must have blacked out, or had a moment of stupidity, because the next thing out of my mouth could only be described as dumbness of the highest order.
“It’s fine, Dave. If you want to get comfortable, you can go ahead. It’s a big bed.” My effort to sound all fine and dandy with the situation volunteered me for something I was positive I would not be able to ignore.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to—”
“Please, we’re both adults. Knock yourself out.”
I was insane.
Certifiable and in need of serious help, my breath held as I waited for his response.
The words I expected to hear didn’t come, with the mattress compressing beside me. My eyes flung open and focused on the ceiling not daring to turn to the side while my lungs burned for air as I lay still. Every single sound was put together like a puzzle, my mind building a picture for me in my head.
He shuffled, moving across the bed as he peeled off the only layer between him and nudity. All I had to do was turn around and reach out and . . .
“You should do it too.” His voice broke through my silent dirty thoughts.
My eyes widened as I took a sharp gasp of air.
He wanted me to touch him?
I wasn’t sure if I’d spoken out loud or he could read my mind, but even with his permission I had to remind myself it was not a good idea. Or at least I tried to remind myself, the argument unable to form in my scrambled brain.
“Are you sure?” The words came out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop them.
Oh my God, I couldn’t be seriously considering this?
I had barely kissed the man and even that had been under false pretenses, the whole relationship was a sham and I was paying him to be with me. He wasn’t a plaything, and it didn’t matter how sexually frustrated I was, it would be wrong.
So wrong.
The wrongest.
W.R.O.N.G.
God, why did I still want to?
The seconds seemed to stretch out for an hour, his response coming with a chuckle. “Of course I’m sure. You said it yourself, we’re both adults.”
I slowly turned, my skin tingling as I tried to keep my movements unhurried and relaxed. Not sure I was doing so great, flipping over to face him with no grace or coordination.
“Hi.” He smiled, his biceps bulging, resting on the pillow with his hands anchored around his neck.
Not smiling was impossible, my eyes following the curves of his amazing body up to his perfect face. “Hi yourself.”
He laughed. “I’m glad you turned around, you know I love attention and it was starting to feel weird.”
It was starting to?
We’d already left weird. It was a distant memory of when I still had a conscience and wasn’t considering molesting him. Now we were in a whole other realm, and I wasn’t sure I felt bad about it.
“I’m glad I turned around too.”
He turned to his side, facing me and bringing temptation closer. “So are you going to do it? Or you are you all talk?”
“I’m not all talk,” I fired back.
It was a question of honor now. Even if I didn’t want to touch him—which I did—I would have to. I was compelled.
My hand inched further while mentally I prepared myself to feel all that beautiful tanned skin. His smile widened as if he too was anticipating it, opening his mouth to speak. “So lose the sleep clothes and get naked.”
Wait a second.
What?
“Me? Get naked?” I coughed out, my hand rearing back like it had been electrocuted.
“Yes you. Isn’t that what we’ve been discussing?” His brow furrowed in genuine confusion, not having read my mind like previously thought.
“Yes, of course.” Lord help me. “Me. Naked.” The panic kept out of my voice by sheer force of will.
His mouth dropped the smile like it was on fire, the apology coming soon after. “Jess, I was only playing around. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. I just thought . . .” He waved his hand to me. “You sounded like you wanted to.”
“No, I want to,” I started to protest. “You’re right, I hate s
leeping in clothes.”
Besides, we were both under the covers and you could have parked a Buick in the space between us. Before I lost my nerve, my fingers curled around the hem of my tank top and pulled it up over my head. Thankfully the comforter stayed in position, saving me from flashing my boobs. My naked collarbone and arms were as scandalous as it got, my top getting tossed to the floor.
He watched with interest as I continued my undercover dance, my attention shifting to my boxer shorts.
It felt illicit, his eyes on me as I slid the thin cotton down my legs. I kicked them off, using my foot to toss them out of the bed, my fingers gripping the top of the sheet.
“Better?” he asked, an amused look on his face.
“Much,” I answered, feeling a tug in my lower belly with the sheets against my naked skin.
He breathed deeply, a long exhale passing through his lips. “I want to ask you something. That story you told, about us in the office?”
Shit, I cursed under my breath. I’d hoped he’d forgotten about it or somehow had missed it. Or at the very least decided not to mention it. But that would be asking too much as I took my own gasp of air and tried to explain.
“I needed a story, something that I could talk about and not worry about being caught in the lie. What I said about meeting you that day was true, it was the first time I really noticed you.” I swallowed, feeling exposed, and it had nothing to do with the fact I was naked in the bed beside him.
“I embellished,” I quickly added, hoping he wouldn’t think I was a psycho who was really in love with him and this was some elaborate plan to get him to date me. “You know . . . made it sound more romantic than it was. So that it sounded convincing.”
His eyes narrowed, not seeming to be convinced. “That’s all it was? A story.”
“Yes, yes of course.” I laughed, trying to sound casual. “Just a story.”
He opened his mouth like he was about to say something but then closed it again, looking at me for what seemed like an eternity before he spoke. “I remember that day too.”
I didn’t move, my body tingling as we looked at each other. “We should get some sleep.”
My suggestion was complete bullshit and I knew it. I had a greater chance of digging a tunnel to China than I did actually being able to get to sleep. How was it even possible? Was I supposed to forget there was an incredibly gorgeous naked man in the bed with me? Unless I could somehow hypnotize myself, it wasn’t going to be likely.